


Unbreakable

by kittenofdoomage



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Fluff, NSFW, Reader Insert, Sex, Smut, chronic pain condition, explicit - Freeform, reader illness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-02
Updated: 2016-02-02
Packaged: 2018-05-17 20:09:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5883922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittenofdoomage/pseuds/kittenofdoomage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary: Reader suffers from a chronic pain condition and Crowley shows her exactly why he doesn't care.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unbreakable

With a hiss, you reached up to the top shelf of the medicine cabinet, relenting for the day and pulling the bottle of oramorph from the cabinet. Measuring out ten millilitres, you took the medicine cup into the dining room, placing it next to your cup of coffee. The taste of the oral morphine was disgusting, but it would take the edge off long enough to finish this last piece of research.

You’d been working in the field for a long time, and taught a part time course at the local community college, but your real job was answering questions and helping out hunters. You couldn’t hunt yourself of course – that life was far too dangerous for someone who often had days where getting out of bed and brushing your teeth was the most painful thing in the world. You’d lived with the condition for a long time, and the doctors often argued over what it could actually be. Eventually, you’d given up and just lived with it – and the copious amounts of medications you had to take.

Now, of course, you had to be more careful. After Bobby Singer had died, and things had gotten complicated with the angels and demons at each other, you’d had to ward your house. It didn’t stop someone trying to burn it down from the outside, and you’d moved a couple of times. When the Winchesters had turned up on your doorstep, you’d figured that was it. They were nice boys, but inevitably, when someone got involved with them, they were dead fairly quickly.

It had been three years now, and you were still alive. It was shocking, really. You still spoke to the boys and whenever they were in town, you allowed them the use of your guest room, to save them staying in some skeezy motel.

The last time they’d come through, looking for any lore on the Mark Of Cain, you’d be concerned to find out that Dean was working closely with a demon. Not just any demon either. Crowley. One demon you’d researched thoroughly in the past, at Bobby’s behest. It had been six months since you’d been introduced, and he’d made a habit of “popping in”. And with a demon, that was literal.

Sitting down at the table, you leant on one hand as you flicked through the large tome you’d borrowed from the Men Of Letters. The boys had invited you to live there with them, but you wanted to retain your independence. Being ill was one thing; giving up was another and you were far too stubborn for that.

The oramorph kicked in quickly when you took it, and you used to coffee to mask the taste, pulling a face as you put both cups down, returning to your book.

‘Bad night, I’m assuming?’ You jumped at the sound of Crowley’s voice and then groaned at the blossoming pain in your side. 'Sorry.’ At least he sounded like he meant it.

'Crowley, what do you want?’

'Just checking in. Haven’t seen you in a few days.’ He pulled out a chair next to you, peering over your shoulder at see what you were working on. You tried to ignore the cool shudder you felt creep up your spine at his presence. '”The Theories And Perspectives Of Phantoms and Ghouls”.’ He read, raising an eyebrow. 'Bit of light reading before bedtime?’

'I was working on a lecture for tomorrow.’ You winced, feeling like the medicine wasn’t doing it’s job. Crowley noticed, and frowned deeply. 'But it’s hit and miss whether I’ll be able to even go in.’ You couldn’t even keep the misery out of your voice. 'I thought Dean threatened you with bodily harm if you came round again. He said you were harassing me.’

'Dean Winchester is an overprotective ape. I’m sure if you wanted me to leave, you’d tell me. And I would listen then.’ He waited, expectantly. 'But you don’t want me to leave.’

You smiled, but it was pained. 'Not really. I find you fascinating.’

'Really?’ He grinned widely. 'I rather like that.’

'But, no offence Crowley, I don’t understand why you keep coming round. I’m not exactly the most interesting of people.’ You shut the book, reaching out for your coffee. 'I’m not the life of the party either.’

'You’re intelligent, witty, good with lore, know all about the dark, dirty things that go bump in the night, myself included’, he wiggled his eyebrows, before taking a breath, 'and you’re beautiful to boot. All of that will draw a demon in, you know.’

You laughed, but it was a bitter sounding noise. 'Are you telling me that you’re here because you like me?’

'I more than you like you.’ Crowley purred, reaching over to run a finger over your arm. You shivered, meeting his dark eyes, and wondering if you’d accidentally overdosed.

'Crowley…I don’t know if you noticed but…I’m broken.’ You smiled sadly. 'There’s no way I’m even remotely in your league.’

'You’re not broken.’ He said, and you shook your head, standing up.

'Really, it’s nice of you to say all that, but,’ you yelped as your leg twinged, and spasmed, and your fingers gripped the table for support. In the blink of an eye, Crowley was at your side, helping you to stand straight as tears stung your eyes. Your lungs burned for oxygen, and for the millionth time since this had all started, you wish the ground would swallow you whole and take the pain away.

'Y/N…’ Crowley said quietly, but you shook your head again, willing the tears to stay back, before pulling yourself from the demon’s grasp with a firm push.

'No. Crowley…I know you’re a demon and all, but you could do way better than this.’ You gestured to yourself. 'I’m so broken, even the doctors can’t put me back together. On a good day, I take twenty different pills to manage my pain and on a bad day, I have to use a frame to get to the damn bathroom. I’m not even halfway through my twenties, and I’m probably going to die long before my thirties. You’re being sweet but saying nice things to me but….Dean is right. You should leave me alone.’

You held on to the table as you started to pick up papers and move them about. The lecture tomorrow wouldn’t be happening, and you felt tears sting harder at your eyes. When you turned around, reaching out to grab your coffee cup, Crowley was gone.

*****

Two days later, and you were feeling mildly better. The day before had been hell, and you’d spent most of it in a morphine induced coma, sleeping and barely eating. A phone call from Dean had turned up some information on a hunt that needed looking into, but you’d had to refer him to another researcher. He’d immediately become concerned, and you’d told him not to worry, that it was a bad day, and you’d text him when you were up to helping out. He’d asked about Crowley, and something in you had urged you to lie.

'I haven’t seen him, Dean. Maybe he took the hint.’

As the day went on, the pain had subsided to a dull ache, and this morning, you’d managed to climb out of bed with the aid of your stick, which was embarrassing as hell, but required. Hobbling down the stairs, you’d fixed breakfast and fed Hagrid the cat, before sitting down to read the paper.

'Good morning.’ Crowley’s voice echoed through the kitchen and Hagrid jumped about ten feet in the air, before hissing at the demon. Crowley hissed back, which made you smile, before you cleared your throat and fixed an expression of annoyance on your face.

'Thought I told you…’

'You were upset and in pain.’ He said. 'I wasn’t going to take anything you said seriously. Especially when it included the words “Dean is right”.’ You didn’t want to laugh at his disdain for the elder Winchester, but Crowley sensed the giggle on the tip of your tongue. 'You can laugh. I’m bloody hilarious.’

Shaking your head, you sipped at your morning orange juice. 'What do you want, Crowley?’

'Thought I made that clear the other night’, he said, running his hands over the edge of the table. He seemed…nervous? That made no sense. 'I want you.’

With a sigh, you put your drink down, and dropped the paper, looking at him. Picking up the stick leaning against the chair you were sat on, you held it up. 'Know what this is?’

'It’s a walking stick.’ He said, shrugging, and you dropped the stick back to where it had been.

'I use this a lot. I’m not some nimble young thing, Crowley. I’m in pain _constantly_. I’m not a super hero. I’m not able to run about and hunt monsters. I’m -’

'Can I interrupt you there?’ He asked, holding a hand up. 'I’m fully aware of what is wrong with you. You seem to be intently focused on telling me that. But let me tell you what’s _right_ with you.’ You blinked, bringing your head back in confusion at his words. He kept his eyes on you, and his mouth set into a thin line. 'You’re smart, you’re funny, I believe I’m mentioned these before. You’re beautiful. You’re stubborn. You’ve got a tongue that could lash a demon into shape. You help others, constantly, despite your own problems. You’re always there for your friends, whether they deserve it or not. You’re stubborn. And you. Are. Not. Broken.’ He punctuated each word, and you flinched, wondering where he was going with it. 'Despite all the problems, you fight. In every way you can, every day. From what I see, you’re not broken. You couldn’t be. Because you’re unbreakable.’ Your mouth opened and shut a few times, as Crowley watched you. 'Now, go ahead and tell me I’m wrong. Tell me I’m a bloody fool for falling in love with you six months ago when those damn Winchesters brought me here.’

'You – you’re…what?’ You whispered, and he rolled his eyes, retaining his sass as he stood up, leaning over.

'I’m in love with you, Y/N. I haven’t been able to get you out of my head. I’ve had Dean and Sam telling me to leave you alone, because I couldn’t possibly feel anything for you, but since those boys pumped me full of demon blood, all I’ve been doing is _feeling_. So maybe _I’m_ the broken one. I’m so head over heels in love with you, I’d walk away from hell if you told me to.’

Stunned silence filled the kitchen, as you stared at him, and he took the opportunity to move closer to you, bending to his knees as he reached out to take your hand. 'Crowley…I…’

'You’re an amazing woman, Y/N. I’m not blind to your faults, just as you are not blind to mine. But you need to stop being blind to your good parts too.’ His hand pushed your hair behind your ear. 'Reject me if you must, if you don’t feel the same…but please stop rejecting yourself.’

'Crowley.’ You whispered. 'I…I…I do feel that…I really…’ Words failed you, which was unusual for you. Instead, you leant forward, ignoring the pain rippling through your abdomen, your hands pulling free from Crowley’s to cup his bearded face, pressing your lips to his. His facial tickled your lips, but you didn’t care, deepening the kiss as he groaned against you. 'Sorry.’ You whispered, pulling away a little from him. 'I didn’t know how else to…’

He smiled, his hand caressing your cheek. 'That is absolutely fine.’ He pulled you from your chair slowly, the stick falling to the floor with a clatter. Hagrid had apparently decided he’d had enough and left through the cat flap as Crowley initiated another kiss with you, his hands supporting you as he stoked the fire in your belly.

'Upstairs?’ You whispered and he nodded, holding you close as he clicked his fingers. The kitchen was replaced with your modestly decorated bedroom, and you smiled. 'Well, that was the easiest trip to the bedroom I’ve ever had.’

'Of course.’ He grinned. 'I can make everything a lot easier.’ His lips descended on yours again briefly, before coursing down your neck. You whimpered at the feeling of his hands exploring your body, the continual pain a simple echo in the back of your mind as the King Of Hell distracted you. He seemed to warm you from the inside out, and you relished every single feather touch on your body, his lips gliding over your neck without restriction.

'Too…too many clothes.’ You gasped out, suddenly aware of just how _long_ it had been since you’d had sex. Especially with a specimen like the older man in front of you. Crowley had always been handsome to you, rugged in a sexy but professional way, just the right amount of dangerous edge.

You’d never thought you’d be ready to let him ravage you.

He smiled, clicking his fingers again, and your clothes were gone, bar your underwear, and he was only in his silk boxers. _Of course they would be silk_ , you thought, smiling at him, reaching to pull him close. He was compact, and so fucking manly it was amazing, his rough fingers grazing your skin with the most gentle care.

'Come here.’ He said, moving you around so he was sitting on the edge of the bed, with you stood between his knees. His hands travelled up, kneading your breasts gently, and you gasped again, your hips moving of their own accord as he kissed the skin above your belly button. 'You are such a magnificent creature.’ He whispered against your supple flesh and you cried out as he pulled one hand from your breasts to press against your sex through your panties, wet with desire. 'And you smell like ambrosia.’

'You’re so corny.’ You giggled, and Crowley looked up at your from where his chin rested at the elastic of your panties.

'I like to stick to the classics.’ His teeth plucked at the waistband of your underwear and your giggles only increased. 'Now take these off.’ He said, before using his abilities to remove them from your body.

'I’m fairly certain that isn’t what your powers are for.’ You whispered reprimandingly, as Crowley grinned, his tongue flicking out to trace the line of your pelvis above your mound.

'Probably not. But I’m the boss, so sue me.’ He moved his mouth so it was flush against the top of your slit, his tongue hungrily lapping at your clit. You shuddered, your hands holding onto his shoulders as he licked you out. 'They’re not for this either.’ The bra covering your breasts disappeared, and his silk boxers were also amiss when you looked down, his thick cock standing to attention where it was pressed against your barely parted thighs. 'You taste sublime.’

'Oh shut up.’ You said, gasping as he pressed one finger against the wet flesh just below your cunt. 'Crowley….’ You mewled.

'Don’t test me, sweetheart, or I might have to punish you.’ Your lips parted in a retort, before he moved his finger to slid it into you gingerly, testing your response. The cheeky response to his words evaporated on your tongue as you gasped in pleasure. 'Normally, my tastes can be a little darker.’ He said, watching your face intently as he slowly fucked you with one finger. 'But I know you have limits. We can…see what works.’

'Oh…’ Your eyes snapped open as you looked down at him. 'I don’t think there’s any way I don’t want you right now.’ He pulled his finger from you, and you grabbed it, sucking it into your mouth, tasting your own essence on his skin. 'And, just because I’m sick, doesn’t mean I can’t be a kinky bitch.’

'Y/N,’ he smiled, 'you continue to surprise me, my dear.’

'My King,’ a shudder went through him as you called him that, and you filed it away for future use before hooking your legs over his thighs. 'You underestimate me, I suspect.’ His cock was ready for you, and slowly you sank down onto him, groaning in tandem with him as your bodies connected. 'But right now, can you just fuck me?’

'No objection whatsoever.’ He muttered, one hand fisting in your hair, the other supporting your ass as he thrust up into you. You allowed him to do most of the work, but raised your legs to accommodate his thrusts. Before long, you were crashing headlong into another orgasm, screaming out his name as he rolled you over, careful not to hurt you, but you weren’t sure if you’d even notice. Laying you back on the bed, he kept pounding into you, his eyes alternating between watching your face contort in pleasure, to watching your pussy swallow his cock with every thrust.

'Crowley, Crowley…oh, fuck, Crowley…’ You begged, unsure of what you were even begging for, and he smiled, before brushing one finger over your clit. You screamed again, and Crowley grunted, thrusting into you several more times before his own orgasm flooded his system and he came, his cock making an obscene sucking noise as he continued to pump into you through his cum filling your pussy.

He stood back as you gasped for breath, his hand trailing over your thigh. As he did so, the pain evaporated, and you pushed yourself up, sitting on the edge of the bed, legs open, cum dripping onto the bed spread.

'You looked thoroughly debauched.’ He commented, cleaning up his softening cock. 'Sitting there with my cum dripping out of your cunt.’ He stepped closer as you looked up at him through your lashes. Your hand moved from the bed spread over your thigh, and you slid one finger into your still spasming pussy, before bringing it to your mouth, tasting his cum on your hand. 'Fuck.’ He muttered. 'You’re a filthy little girl, aren’t you?’

'Like I said.’ You grinned as he fell to his knees between yours, his cock hardening again as he stared at you. 'You’ve no idea.’


End file.
